Flight of the Phoenix
by A Midnight Dreary
Summary: “My honor. My throne. My country. I’m about to lose them all.” What if Zuko’s dire predictions had come true? What is Zhao had won? AU ending for The Blue Spirit.
1. The Avatar and the Thief

**A/N:** This is an AU ending to the first season episode "The Blue Spirit". I was a bit surprised to find that no one else had done something like this before.

Anyways, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Avatar: the Last Airbender_. Nor do I own the small chunk of dialogue lifted directly from one episode.

* * *

**Phoenix Rising**

Chapter One: The Avatar and the Thief

* * *

His teeth were gritted almost painfully tight, his lips pressed together in a line so thin all the blood had been squeezed out, leaving them white, devoid of color. One hand grasped the other in a relentless grip until he thought he felt the tendons in his hand creak. Those were the only outward signs of his agitation and one had to be looking closely in order to spot them. The stiff set of his shoulders and razor-straight back was a natural position for him.

Admiral Zhao watched the scene unfold from the tower. He watched the masked thief slink backwards unchallenged, pulling the Avatar with him. Ten steps further along the path and they were going to be lost to the darkness and the mist. That wouldn't do. No, not at all. They had to be stopped. He was the first Fire Nation officer of any notable significance to actually successfully capture the Avatar and he was not going to let the brat get away so soon. No, the Avatar was going to enjoy his stay with the Fire Nation even if it killed him.

But Zhao would much prefer to hand the Avatar over alive. Maybe not necessarily in one piece, but at least him being alive meant that they wouldn't have to begin a search for the new Avatar. If he was able to deliver the Avatar to the Fire Lord... He could only imagine the prestige he would receive; the honor...

He, Admiral Zhao, was going to succeed where many others -- Prince Zuko included -- had failed for the last century.

He was going to capture the Avatar and assist the Fire Lord in winning the war once and for all.

"Do you have a clear shot?" Zhao asked with the barest glance to his left side and the quirk of an eyebrow.

The Yu-Yan archer merely drew back the arrow and lined up his target.

"Knock out the thief." Zhao instructed calmly. "I'll deliver him to the Fire Lord, along with the Avatar."

Down on the path, Aang was making no move to actively escape. He could feel the sharp, cold steel blades grazing the skin of his throat with every step and his imagination whirred into gear, supplying him with images of those blades slicing into his exposed neck. He cursed his imagination for being so vivid sometimes. The made-up images of his own grisly demise made his blood run cold and the fact that it was very much a possibility didn't help in the slightest. He had to assume that his captor/savior had a contingency plan in mind.

Aang hoped that it consisted of letting him go.

The screaming whistle of an arrow slit the previously silent night air. Both captor and captive heard it, but neither had the chance to react properly. The only thing that was heard next was a sharp, tinny clang as the arrow head collided dead-on with the metal mask.

The arrow had rocketed by so close that Aang had felt the breeze against his scalp. The presence at his back vanished as the thief fell away, the twin blades falling from a loosened grasp, one just barely scratching his neck. By the time Aang had turned around, the thief had hit the ground in a senseless heap. The ties of the blue mask had come loose in the fall and a good half-inch of skin had been revealed. Despite himself and his current situation, Aang peered curiously at the exposed skin, wondering who it was that had saved him and/or captured him. Other than Katara and Sokka -- both of whom were out sick -- he couldn't think of anyone else who would risk their necks to pull him out a Fire Nation stronghold.

There was a patch of discolored skin, like a burn scar. He had seen something like that before a number of times on his visits in the Fire Nation. More specifically, he had seen them on Firebenders-in-training who had been too careless and had gotten themselves burned. His old friend Kuzon had one such scar on his leg from a time when a hot coal had escaped a tipped brazier and Kuzon had had the misfortune to trip and land right on it.

Aang only knew of person now who had such a scar on their face in that particular location.

_No way..._

He had to see... He had to make sure that it really wasn't--

***Zzwiing!***

Acute pain erupted in Aang's shoulder and he cried out, staggering but maintaining his footing. His hand came up reflexively to stem the blood he knew was going to be coming out and he almost cried out again when his fingers encountered the shaft of an arrow; the head and two inches of the shaft buried into the flesh of his shoulder. Dammit, he had been standing still too long.

_It's those crazy archers who ambushed me back at the river!_ He thought, annoyed and dismayed all at once. He tried to ignore the pain that was shooting through his shoulder and down his arm and concentrate on his new situation. _Well, they gotta see me to shoot me._

Aang raised his other hand to whip up a cloud of dust, to give himself the cover to get away. But a second arrow dropped unseen from the night and went right through the back of his hand. The force behind it yanked his body down and pinned his hand to the ground.

His scream was more than just reflexive this time.

Up in the tower, Zhao scowled and rounded on the Yu-Yan archer, who had nocked another arrow in preparation.

"I would like to deliver him to the Fire Lord **undamaged**!" the admiral snapped angrily. "But all the same." Zhao added with a non-existent shrug, his mood turning on a dime. He was a step closer to his own little victory.

"Recover the Avatar!" he ordered of the soldiers. "Be certain that he won't escape!"

There was a flurry of activity as his command was quickly obeyed. There was very little room for error this time. They would get it right or it would be their heads.

"He's not going anywhere this time." Zhao said to himself with a smile that could make little children cry.

Pinned in the road, Aang tried his hardest to free himself. His legs were twisted under him, having been facing forwards before this and he couldn't quite get them in proper positions to rise to his feet. On top of that, his injured hand wouldn't cease moving and pain continued to shoot up his arm. His fingers twitched spasmodically against the cold ground, blood welling around the arrow shaft and slipping down to the dirt.

He could feel the beam of wood through his flesh. Every instinct told him to get rid of the foreign object lodged in his hand and try as he would, he couldn't get a decent grip on the arrow with his right hand. His right arm felt heavier than normal and it simply wouldn't obey his brain's commands.

"Freeze!" came the semi-discordant shout from Fire Nation soldiers. A dozen or so wickedly pointed spears came much too close to the vulnerable points of his body for his comfort. He couldn't so much as twitch without getting a tip jabbed into him.

"You're not getting away with this!" Aang shouted defiantly, glaring up at the Fire Nation soldiers that had encircled him. He was very painfully aware of the sort of position he was in. His left hand was all but useless now and he couldn't move his right arm without damaging his shoulder further. He glanced to his right to see if the masked thief was stirring, but if he was, he gave no sign and continued to lay there uselessly. Aang grit his teeth.

"You won't get away with this!" he reiterated. "Just you wait! I'll--"

"Shut up!" one of the soldiers growled. He flipped the spear around to the blunt end and rammed it mercilessly into the Airbender's skull. Aang's field of vision skewed sideways as white-hot flashes of pain surged through his head. He saw the men standing before him move closer. Then, with the distinct, but odd feeling that he was falling -- because he really wasn't going anywhere -- a velvety darkness took over and he was then dead to the world.

* * *

"The Avatar," Zhao looked from one limp body to the other. "And a thief. Today must be my lucky day."

Both the Avatar and this mysterious masked thief were tightly bound from elbow to wrist and knee to ankle. The Avatar had been gagged to prevent him from using any sort of Airbending. They may have never dealt with Airbenders before this, but they were learning fast. If he had done nothing else, Prince Zuko had provided them with valuable information on the right way to tackle the Avatar.

It was the same really, for any other Bender. The trick was to prevent them from utilizing their element and they were essentially helpless and the captor could do with them as he pleased. Some Benders relied too heavily on their ability to manipulate an element. Zhao liked to think that he wasn't one of those people.

The admiral stooped slightly to examine the Avatar and began to wonder what they had been so worried about.

The Avatar was just a little boy. There was nothing remarkable about him. The arrow tattoos were the symbols of the Airbending Masters, the shaved head that was traditional for the Air Nomad monks (only with a bruise darkening reddish-purple over a small portion) and the red-orange clothes the old texts had said were also traditional for the Air Nomads.

They looked so silly.

It was like the Avatar was nothing more than a little boy playing dress-up. He was supposed to be the most powerful Bender in the world, but yet here he was, unconscious and captured. He was untrained, undisciplined and oh so naive. He had essentially walked right into their hands.

"How was it you were able to escape detection for one hundred years only to be caught now?" Zhao asked, but that was the thing about unconscious people; they never replied. He moved on to the thief instead.

"It's time to found out who you are, so that I can give the Fire Lord your name." the admiral said to the black-swathed person. "We'll need one to put on your headstone."

He ripped the blue mask off, revealing a familiar face and a familiar burn scar over the left eye. A collective gasp rose up from the gathered soldiers and one of them dropped a spear.

"It's Prince Zuko!" one hissed all too loudly. Someone shushed that person.

A deeply set frown appeared on Zhao's face. Prince Zuko had slipped past their guards in an attempt to free the Avatar. No doubt he had done it for selfish reasons, but it didn't change the obvious fact that he had tried to deny the Fire Nation a great victory. And that was treason.

"Dress the Avatar's wounds and then take both him and the traitor-prince back to the ship." Zhao ordered the guards. "I want them in lowest cell of the prison hold. Make sure they are securely bound and will **not** be escaping. We will leave for the Fire Nation at dawn."

The soldiers nodded and away they went with the Avatar and the banished prince. Zhao turned to his scribe, who had been standing nearby the whole time.

"My previous order still stands. I want a full copy of my speech sent to the Fire Lord along with the note that we caught a traitor." the admiral said. "Send it with a black ribbon directly to the Fire Lord's chamber."

"Yessir." The scribe bowed and hurried away.

"You." Zhao turned to a nearby soldier, who straightened so quickly his back cracked. Zhao cringed; he hated hearing people pop their joints. The soldier bit back a slightly pained groan but kept to attention.

"Take some of the others and find out where the Avatar was hiding." the admiral instructed. "Find his friends. Find his bison. And kill them. Leave no survivors."

"Yessir." The soldier bowed and left to carry the orders.

"Sir," One of the lower-ranking officers leaned towards him. "What of Prince Zuko?"

"The Fire Lord will decided his fate. I will go to the prince's ship myself and inform them of his treason." Zhao said, his arms behind his back. "They will be returning to the Fire Nation with us."

The officer bowed and Zhao turned to look over the parapets again and into the dark, foggy night. To think that the Avatar had nearly escaped into that fog with a traitor. The admiral had always known that one day Prince Zuko could prove himself to be a traitor, but maybe not quite in this way.

Zuko had never been a proper prince; always speaking out of turn, never knowing when to shut his mouth and show respect where and when it was due. The Fire Lord hadn't whipped the boy nearly enough. Ursa had always gotten in the way, finding a loophole to get Zuko out of punishments. That damn meddling woman. She had made Zuko weak. The future Fire Lord was not supposed to be weak and yet he was.

At this rate, Princess Azula would make a better leader than her worthless brother. Princess Azula, at least, was in the Fire Lord's favor. She would probably end up succeeding Ozai. Zhao could see it. He could see Azula on the throne, keeping an eye on the Fire Nation homeland for her father. Fire Lord Ozai would be traveling, looking in on the single mighty nation he would create. And he, Admiral Zhao, would be in charge of the entire navy, controlling its movements and keeping the other continents in check.

There was no reason to deny excellent leadership where it was seen, after all.

Zuko was too weak to rule a powerful such as the Fire Nation, never mind the rest of the world. And Zhao would personally see to it that everyone would know that.

He turned sharply on his heels and left the tower. It was time for him to return home.

And he would return to triumph of the entire Fire Nation.

* * *

The lingering traces of the storm had passed, leaving a cool, misty morning behind. The sun was rising a pale gold on the eastern horizon, casting a steady glow across the iron-clad decks of the small battleship. The wind was brisk and light, prompting anyone above decks to keep moving, to keep themselves warm. It was a morning that practically begged to be enjoyed. And still, General Iroh thought he could smell something foul on the breeze.

Nevertheless, it was still a beautiful morning and not one to be wasted. Iroh moved his way slowly through a series of stretches in the early dawn. He was not as young or as spry as he used to be and he probably couldn't take on three dozen Earthbenders by himself anymore, but there was a benefit to keeping himself limber. If he couldn't fight head-on, he could at least dodge any flying rocks. Or anything else his opponents opted to throw at him. He had gotten everything from flaming balls of pitch to children's toys hurled at his person. The latter could be very painful, though not necessarily life-threatening.

When his stretches were complete, Iroh settled down for a good cup of jasmine tea. It was a shame that his nephew did not appreciate the simple pleasure of a properly-brewed cup of tea. It was more than just boiled leaf juice; sheer sacrilege to call it that! No, a good cup of tea was more like a mystical experience; like a little glimpse into the spirit world. When presented with a proper brew, the combined flavors should relax the drinker; to calm them and wash away their troubles for an hour or two. Nothing more, nothing less.

Tea was meant to be enjoyed slowly, at one's own pace, so Iroh was a bit displeased when his peaceful moment was disturbed by the arrival of Admiral Zhao, accompanied by four guards.

"Admiral Zhao." Iroh didn't particularly like the man, but he was always polite. "Would you like a cup of tea? It will do wonders for that tic you seem to be developing in your lower jaw."

Zhao didn't comment on the twitching muscle. He was well aware of it.

"General Iroh, where is Prince Zuko?" he asked with a forced politeness.

"I don't know." Iroh admitted. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen his nephew since last night. "He asked me not to bother him for the rest of the evening and retired to his room. If he did anything else last night, I was not aware of it." The old general smiled. "All I can tell you is that he missed music night. Lt. Jee sang a stirring love song." he added with relish at the memory.

"I don't care!" Zhao shouted, slamming the flat of his hand into the low table. "All I want to know is whether or not you've seen that nephew of yours lately."

Iroh held back every scowl, grimace, swear or otherwise unkind facial expression and spoken word and instead leveled a pleasantly puzzled gaze. He had already stated that he had not seen Zuko since yesterday evening, yet his nephew had to have done _something_ to incur the anger of Zhao. Aside from merely existing, that is.

"Admiral Zhao," He blew gently on his tea. "Has my nephew done something to anger you?"

Zhao stiffened minutely at the old general's blasé attitude towards this. Granted, Iroh obviously had no knowledge as to what had occurred last night, but he could at least show a little concern! Oh, Zhao was going to enjoy telling Iroh all about this.

"Yesterday evening, the Yu-Yan archers were successful in capturing the Avatar." Zhao started, beginning to pace a steady circle around the old man.

"Oh, that's good news." Iroh said with false relief. Deep down, something twisted hard.

"In the late hours of the night," Zhao went on, hands clasped behind his back. "A masked thief infiltrated the fortress and attempted to free the Avatar. The escape attempt wasn't successful, however. The Avatar and the thief were both apprehended."

There was a predatory gleam in the admiral's eyes that Iroh didn't like. Zhao bent his back so he was face to face with the old general.

"Imagine our surprise when the masked thief turned out to be none other than Prince Zuko himself."

That same something deep down gave a harder twist and the high spirits that Iroh had been enjoying melted away like the mist.

"**That** is where your nephew has been all night." Zhao finished, straightening up. He turned around, showing his back to the old general. How easy it would be to plant a fireball or a knife right in the middle of that back. But Iroh would not bring himself to descend to that level. He did not like taking lives unnecessarily.

"This ship is now under my command." Zhao announced, more to the crew members who had come topside for some fresh air. "Our beloved Prince Zuko had shown his true colors by committing treason and he will be returning to the Fire Nation in chains."

This was followed by a volley of confused murmurs and a great deal of head-scratching. For exactly how long and for what reason was their prince considered a traitor? What had he done to deserve such a label? It was common knowledge that Zuko had managed to offend just about every Fire Nation official in one way or another over the last three years with his impulsive actions and selfish desires, but he had never done something so bad that he would be considered a traitor. His pride in his country and his heritage was too strong.

"I expect the entire ship to be ready to depart within the hour. We are going home." Zhao finished, sending a bone-chilling smirk over his shoulder before striding away, the guards clomping after him obediently.

"I will be counting the seconds." Iroh muttered with a glare at the retreating man's backside. He reached for his tea again, but the serenity of the morning and the delicious taste of his tea had been soured by Zhao's foul disposition. Iroh tossed the contents of the cup over the side.

He would lying if he said that he hadn't seen something like this coming in one form or another. Zuko had always been brash and headstrong -- a good trait to have in moderation -- but in a country like the Fire Nation where children were meant to be seen and not heard, such traits were bound to get him in trouble. The neglect from his father, the vicious teasing from his sister and the absence of his mother -- the absence of unconditional love combined with the almost harsh approach Fire Nation parents had to child-rearing had turned Zuko into the angry and likely confused teenager that he was now. And an unwillingness to talk caused him to lash out in other ways.

Zhao was a very dangerous man. He had the air of a cold and calculating villain who never hesitated to be brutal when the situation called for brutality. He was the sort of man who killed whoever got in the way of his goal without giving them a chance to step aside.

And Zuko had crossed him in the worst way possible.

Now, the Fire Nation had the Avatar, Zuko had essentially become a traitor, and this was the year Sozin's Comet would return to the heavens. This was the year the war would end and it the only people who were going to benefit would be the Fire Nation.

Iroh took in a deep breath and wrinkled his nose in disgust. There. He knew that he had smelled something foul on the breeze.

* * *

There was a deep, slow pounding all around him, like the beat of a drum, and for a moment, he panicked. Someone else would hear that! They would find him! But the longer he listened to it, the more aware he became. He realized that the pounding was actually in his head. He was the only person who could hear it. He had nothing to worry about. But that other sound... What was that? It sounded a bit like the footbridge that connected the Airball arena to the rest of the Temple. It was old thing, always creaking on its support struts if too many people stomped across it at the same time. The monks had always meant to replace it someday, but they had obviously never gotten around to it.

But this was a cleaner sound than the ones that bridge had made. This was the creak of metal. It was all around him, above him, under his head--

Oh, his head... It ached. He could feel a lump the size of a chicken's egg -- or larger -- throbbing on the side of it. He groaned softly, the sound seeming unnaturally loud, giving him the impression that he was in a large room and when he managed to drag his eyes open, his vision only confirmed what he had already guessed. He was lying in a large, dim room made of metal. There was no ornamentation save for two lamps hanging from the ceiling, rocking back and forth. Judging from the pressure on his arms and legs, he was securely bound up in heavy iron chains. Oh, and he was gagged too.

But that wasn't the worst part. This room smelled vaguely of fire and smoke and burnt things. This was a Fire Nation ship. And that meant he had been captured.

Aang proceeded to spit the gag out. It took the combined effort of his lower jaw, lips, and tongue and a clever bit of Airbending, but the piece of cloth eventually ended up in a loose ring around his neck. That accomplished, he tried to sit up, but that was quickly waylaid when his shoulder flared with pain. He bit back a shout that came out strangled instead and hunched over, forehead pressed into the floor as he waited for the pain to fade. Such a simple contraction of muscles awoke the other pains that had been hiding and Aang became very aware of the burning pain right through the palm of his left hand. He remembered the arrow and he had the horrible feeling that it was still there. His hand twitched. Nope, the arrow was gone. But the pain remained.

"So... You're awake..." said a soft voice from somewhere behind him. He knew that voice. He had heard it enough times before, usually shouting at him in barely contained anger or telling him that he wasn't going to get away.

Steeling himself for the pain that was going to come, Aang turned over, gritting his teeth the whole way, and looking for the source of the voice. It was sitting over there as far from the Airbender as it was currently possible to get, hunched over so that his face was in shadow.

"Uh... Z-Zuko?" the Airbender asked uncertainly, trying to remember if that was the guy's real name or not. All this time in his head, Aang had been calling him 'that crazy prince-guy from the Fire Nation who keeps chasing me around and trying to capture me and it's getting really, really annoying and I wish he'd cut it out'. Though not in quite so many words.

"You're probably wondering why I did that." Zuko said in that same soft voice. It had a defeated tone to it. He didn't look at the Avatar.

"Um... Yeah, I guess I am." Aang admitted, shrugging as best as he could, a look of curiosity plastered across his face. Zuko didn't say anything, staring at the floor as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Why did you try and rescue me?" Aang prompted, wanting to know the reason. Knowing what he did of the Fire Nation prince, it was probably going to be something weird and twisted.

"I wasn't going to let Zhao have all the glory of capturing the Avatar." Zuko replied with the undertone of a growl. "If you're going to be captured, it's going to be on **my** terms. No one else's."

"Nice to you know you care." Aang muttered with a deadpan expression. Not a very weird reason, but he had gotten the 'twisted' part right. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't **want** to be captured? I just want to go to the North Pole and learn Waterbending. It's what I'm supposed to do."

Zuko didn't respond to that. He glared at the floor as if it had wronged him somehow.

"So why are you tied up too?" Aang wondered, noticing the length of heavy chain that had been wrapped around the Firebender's body. Zuko looked away, evidently deciding that the floor wasn't good enough to be glared at anymore and chose the nearest corner as the better candidate.

"I'm just as much a prisoner as you are." Zuko said in a low voice. Hatred was bleeding through his tone, but Aang had to wonder. Hatred at what? The Fire Nation prince seemed to hate everything.

"Why's that?" the Airbender asked curiously. Then he remembered that Zuko had tried to free him from a Fire Nation stronghold. The answer was obvious enough. "Ooh... right. Y'know, if you hadn't tried to free me, you wouldn't be in this situation right now. And... neither would I." he added, realizing that that probably wasn't making Zuko feel any better about their respective predicaments. If Zuko hadn't come along when he did, Aang probably wouldn't have stood a chance at getting out. Unfortunately, the effort had been made in vain, because here they were.

They didn't speak for a little while after that. Aang was constantly searching for conversation topics but Zuko didn't seem like the type one could strike up a conversation with. Anyways, Aang didn't know what topics he could bring up without tripping over some past event that would be especially sore for the prince. The rumble of the engines prevented it from being too silent at least. Aang had pressed his ear to the wall of the ship and if he listened close enough, he could hear the faint slosh of water. The ship was in motion. That wasn't good. The only thing that seemed to be running in his favor currently was the fact that Katara and Sokka were waiting for him to return and when he didn't, they would know that something was wrong. But they were still sick and he had never gotten those wood frogs to them. He hoped that they were going to be okay. They had to be. They did have Appa with them. And Momo. Appa and Momo would take care of Katara and Sokka. Right now, they were probably wondering where he was. Heck, he didn't really know where he was either. He hoped they would figure out what had happened to him. And as soon as they got better, they would come to the Fire Nation and rescue him. Yeah, he was going to get out of this for sure.

"Are you alright?" Zuko asked suddenly.

Aang jumped when the silence was broken and looked up, puzzled. Instead of staring so fiercely at the floor like he was trying to burn a hole through it without using Firebending, Zuko was looking at him, his face expressionless.

"You're injured." Zuko elaborated. "Are you alright?"

"Eh... It'll heal." Aang assured him. He had managed to forget about the pain until the Firebender had brought up his injuries. "How 'bout you? You okay?"

Predictably, Zuko broke eye-contact and resumed his attempts to bore a hole in the floor with his eyes alone.

"I've lost everything. My home, my kingdom, my honor... I'm going to be thrown before my father in chains and branded a traitor for the rest of my days. I never meant to be caught trying to free you and now I'm going to pay for it. The Fire Nation is going to forget that they even had a prince. My name will be taken out of the books. I'll be nothing."

Aang blinked a few times and his mouth pulled downwards in a frown.

"Sorry I asked." he muttered and sought to change the subject. "So... We're going to the Fire Nation."

"Where did you think we were going?" Zuko asked, a little bit of acid leaking into his voice.

"Um... A happy place?" Aang offered, unable to think of a better answer.

Zuko's single eyebrow edged upwards. Aang wondered if that eyebrow ever got lonely.

"You're implying that the Fire Nation isn't a happy place?" the Firebender asked, seeming to take interest in the conversation for the first time.

"I wouldn't know any more." Aang said with a half-shrug. "I haven't been there in one hundred years. For all I know, all the volcanoes could have erupted in one big explosion and killed all the plants and stuff and you guys had to rebuild on top of it." A nostalgic smile lit up his face. "I remember the trees. You don't get big trees like that up in the mountains. And the fire lilies. The mountain lilies are pretty too."

"You won't see any of that where we're going." Zuko deadpanned and Aang frowned again. Talk about a killjoy.

"What's gonna happen when we get there?" Aang asked, curious despite an inkling that he didn't want to hear the answer.

"We'll be presented to the Fire Lord." Zuko replied, beginning to glower. "He might make a speech. And then we'll probably be thrown in the prison tower."

"Maybe me, but what about you?" Aang asked. "I mean, you're the prince, right? You're family. Wouldn't he--"

"He won't." Zuko interrupted firmly and that was the end of that line of thought.

The silence hung long and uncomfortable for many moments. Aang squirmed in his bonds. Though the monks had taught him that stillness and patience was an important part of being a Bender -- right up there with knowing when and how to strike -- Aang had always found it difficult to hold still and keep quiet for any extended length of time, even in sleep. His old room-mates at the Southern Air Temple had informed him that he was one of the most active sleepers that they had ever seen. Katara and Sokka had never commented on that. Probably because Sokka was even louder and Katara was numb to it.

His friends... He missed them already.

"Y'know what the worst part about being born over one hundred years ago is?" Aang asked suddenly; his turn to break the silence. "I miss all the friends I used to hang out with. Before the war started, I used to always visit my friend Kuzon." Another smile laden with nostalgia appeared on his face as the memory of a black-haired boy radiating glee and a mischievous streak a mile wide bubbled to the surface. "The two of us; we'd get in and out of so much trouble together. He was one of the best friends I ever had." Aang made sure he had Zuko's attention for the next part. "And he was from the Fire Nation, just like you."

There was no look of shock, but Aang had not expected one. He was starting to figure Zuko out.

"If we knew each other back then, d'you think we could have been friends too?" the Airbender asked hopefully.

A few hours ago, Zuko might have scorned at such a notion. Him? Friends with a pathetic Airbender? Hah! As if! But now... Now, he wasn't so sure. He was on his way back to the Fire Nation in shame. No one was going to dare meet his eye. Maybe not even his uncle.

_Uncle... _Zuko felt like he had been hit over the head with a block of ice and there was a sick plunging feeling in the pit of his stomach. _What is Uncle going to say?_

He agonized over this for a few seconds, but it felt much longer. Iroh had been the only person to respect him for who he was since his mother had left. Iroh was the only person Zuko had always felt he could trust; the only family member he felt any sort of attachment to. He liked the old man and now he had betrayed what little trust there was. He wasn't going to have any friends among the people of the Fire Nation. They wouldn't associate themselves with a traitor like himself.

He looked up to find the Avatar's still-hopeful gray eyes blinking owlishly at him.

"Get some rest." Zuko instructed brusquely. "We still have a long journey ahead of us."

And with that, he closed his eyes and settled against the bulkhead, trying not to think about the fate that awaited the both of them back in the Fire Nation.

* * *

The messenger hawk had at last reached the final leg of its long, exhausting journey. It had flown this route before and it swooped easily into the shaft that led directly to the Fire Lord's throne room. The sudden blast of warm air wasn't entirely welcome but it assured the tired bird of prey that it had come to the right place.

Fire Lord Ozai held up an arm and the hawk alighted gently on the offered limb, careful not to dig its claws in too deep. Ozai eyed the black ribbon thoughtfully for a moment, wondering how important this message was if it had come straight to him. He removed the letter, allowing the hawk to take off for some much-needed food and rest, its mission complete.

The contents of the letter surprised him. The Avatar had been captured. And it had only been a few days since he had ordered the hunt for the Avatar to become top priority. Well, well, his troops certainly moved fast. Admiral Zhao would be returning in three days time with the Avatar in tow... As well as a traitor; how interesting. And the traitor was--

_Zuko?!_

Ozai crushed the parchment and it burned between his palms. His own son was a traitor? He thought he had taught that ungrateful boy a lesson; between the humiliating Agni Kai and the three-year banishment. But clearly... Clearly Zuko had not learned; that treasonous brat. His punishment this time was going to have to be much more severe.


	2. Work To Do

**A/N:** Ack, transitional-ish chapters. Despise them. This is probably the weakest chapter of the lot that I've written so far, but it's a necessary chapter. Otherwise, I'd have a serious plot-hole to deal with. And I don't like plot-holes.

And I changed the title.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Avatar: the Last Airbender_. Nor do I own any chunks of dialogue lifted directly from the episodes.

* * *

**Flight of the Phoenix**

Chapter Two: Work To Do

* * *

It was the serious need to pee that finally drove Sokka to slither out of his sleeping bag and seek out the most private bush to do his business behind. There was no substantial bush he could reach without falling, so the broken masonry would have to do. He blinked drowsily as he looked around, realizing that it was some time in the early morning, if the chirping birds and half-risen sun were any indications.

_Pretty sky..._ was the vague thought that passed through his mind. Duty finished, he hiked his trousers back up and secured them and then wandered back to broken entrance hall of the old, abandoned temple they had spent the last -- uh... night? -- in. Well, since that storm at any rate.

Still tired, Sokka flopped back on to the comfy bag, nearly squishing a dozing Momo in the process. The winged-lemur let out a series of offended chitters and scurried off to find himself a morning meal that he had no intention of sharing with the rude human. It was only when Sokka was fully horizontal and halfway asleep did he start to get the faintest inkling that something just might be wrong.

Since the feeling wasn't leaving him alone, Sokka heaved himself onto his elbows and took stock. The hall where they had taken shelter had somehow become cluttered by all sorts of junk and was that a crown on Katara's head? Well, his sister was there and sleeping still though the position of her body looked nothing short of uncomfortable. And here Sokka had thought that he was the one who ended up in the weird sleeping positions by dawn.

His gaze was drawn to the largest pile of haphazard clutter and the empty space beyond it. Wasn't there something to be something there?... Something big and white and fluffy?... With -- horns?... And -- fluffiness?...

Appa was gone.

Sokka laughed weakly and flopped back down, not sure why he had been worried in the first place. Of course the big, white, fluffy bison was gone. According to Aang, Appa had five stomachs and that was a lot of stomachs to fill. The bison had gone for breakfast. Breakfast was never anything to worry about.

So why wasn't the feeling going away?

For a few minutes, Sokka lay there. He was tired and wanted to sleep, but at the same time, he felt like he had to get up. He didn't know why. The call of nature had been answered, he didn't feel particularly hungry at the moment -- despite spending the last two days out sick; he'd give his appetite another hour to return -- Katara was alright and Aang was-- Aang was...

Where was Aang?

He sat bolt upright, all vestiges of fatigue burning away in a sudden burst of panic. He looked around again for the thing that was amiss. Besides his sister's odd sleeping position and the unusual amounts of clutter -- which he was certain hadn't been there before -- he _knew_ there was something else wrong and he was going put all his brain power into finding out what.

Usually, whenever Appa was gone, Aang would be gone with him. That was almost always a certainty. The Airbender and the Sky Bison were the definition of inseparable. However, Aang usually never left his glider behind.

Sokka was on his feet and over to the pillar in seconds, snatching up the glider. The smooth wood was cool, implying that it hadn't been touched at all and Sokka's suspicions grew. Unless the weather was set to turn foul, Aang never left his glider behind and he definitely wouldn't leave it behind on a morning like this. He would never miss an opportunity to fly. And today would be the perfect day to get out and do so. The nights were often still chilly, but the days were warming up into spring the further north they went. Sokka had developed a healthy appreciation for warmer weather -- even if he didn't like how much it made him sweat.

Suspicious fact number one: Aang had disappeared and left his glider.

The Water Tribesman's wandering gaze landed on Momo, who was chasing bugs a few steps down, seeming oblivious to the world around him. But every couple of seconds or so, the winged lemur would freeze and glance around, ears tuliped forward attentively. After a few moments, his ears would go down and he would go back to his bug-chasing. Then the cycle repeated.

Sokka watched this for a moment, brow furrowed in thought. The lemur was acting as if something was going to drop out of the sky at any moment and violently squish them. Granted, he was naturally a twitchy little creature, but something about his movements suggested a strong sense of unease. The tiger seals moved the same way whenever they scented danger. Sokka had spent enough time hunting them to recognize predator-induced agitation when he saw it in any other animal.

Suspicious fact number two: Momo was unusually jittery this morning.

"Katara!" Sokka headed back into the depths of the chamber and shook his sister awake. "Katara, get up."

The young Waterbender groaned in a combination of annoyance and general fatigue and turned over to block out her brother's voice.

"Katara, I'm serious. Get up." Sokka said in his best 'big-brother' voice. Katara groaned a second time and turned to her brother with bloodshot eyes that were complete with dark circles. Errant strands of hair hung loosely around her face and she looked sleep-deprived. Ah, that's right. She was sick too.

"...Sokka... what's goin' on?..." Katara asked in a scratchy voice. "Shouldn't you be sleepin'?..."

"I'm fine, but something's wrong." Sokka said urgently, wrapping up his sleeping bag. "I think we need to get out of here."

"What's wrong?..." Katara asked, her grogginess starting to fade in the wake of her brother's jerky movements and worried air.

"Get up." Sokka repeated, carrying the rolled-up bag over to Appa's saddle and stuffing it into the luggage carrier. Behind him, Katara moved sluggishly, sitting up and rolling off her sleeping bag. She started to fold it up as Sokka lashed the other bits of luggage into place. He hoped Appa got back soon, though he wasn't sure how they were going to get his saddle back on if Aang didn't come back with him. They had always relied on Aang's Airbending to get the saddle on and off.

A terrified screech sounded and Momo came tearing back up the stairs like wolf-bats were nipping at his tail. He charged right towards Sokka, diving down the back of the teenager's shirt and curling up in a quivering ball.

"Eeee!" Sokka let out a short squeal and performed a series of limb contortions to remove the lemur. He had just gotten his hand around Momo when the familiar scent of smoky leather drifted in on the wind and the reason for Momo's panic was at least partially explained. The siblings shared a look and they jumped to their feet and ran to the top of the stairs, Sokka extracting Momo from the depths of his shirt in the process. Any traces of Katara being sick and tired had vanished, save for the bloodshot eyes and the constant sniffle she gave. Advancing up the wide mountain-side steps were a dozen or so red-and-black-clad soldiers in masked helmets.

"Fire Nation." Sokka said, his heart sinking. The pieces were starting to come together.

"Oh no..." Katara put her hands over her mouth.

"There they are!" the lead soldier shouted. "Get them!"

"Run!" Sokka shouted, pushing Katara to the side, out of the way of the flaming punch that came flying at them.

The Fire Nations soldiers scrambled after them, throwing fistfuls of fire after them. The Water Tribe siblings clambered over the mounds of fallen masonry. Katara had stooped long enough to snatch up Aang's staff along the way and was using it to propel herself over the rocks. Six of the soldiers lined up and drew their fists back. Both children dove between the pillars to avoid the gouts of fire, leaping from the old temple's entrance hall.

Sokka hit the ground feet-first and toppled over, the momentum of the jump and the downward pull of gravity pulling him into a dizzying tumble; Katara behind him, falling through the brush. Several bruising moments of slipping on the white stone later, they both rolled right into a pricker bush. The rough thorns snagged their clothes, but allowing them to find their footing at last.

"Get them! Quickly now!" the lead soldier shouted, leaping down the wide steps after them.

"Get up Katara!" Sokka shoved his sister to her feet. She yanked him out of the pricker bush and they both continued their run down to the mountain-side. The soldiers split up into two groups, one staying in pursuit of the two teens, the other group running ahead in a roundabout path to keep them from escaping along the mountain road.

The voices behind them blended together as the wind rushed past their ears in their frantic dash, Momo chittering as he flew after them. Neither knew really what was going on; only that they had missed something very important. Sokka had a vague idea, given both Aang and Appa's unexplainable absences and the sudden appearance of Fire Nation soldiers. Katara had only caught the latter half of the possible problem and she immediately worried about Aang. Where had he gone?!

"Sokka!--" Katara gasped, already winded. The fact that she was sick was coming to bite her in the butt. "What's going on?!--"

"I dunno, but I think I'm close to figuring it out!" Sokka replied.

Katara gave him the best filthy look she could muster at the moment. "You-- You either know or you don't-- Aaah!"

Fire burned just inches from the side of her head, singing those errant strands of hair, and both skidded to a halt. They had run right into the other six soldiers, the mountain road now cut off by the tree that had been hastily cut down and set aflame. Sokka freed his boomerang from its holster and brandished it defensively, grimacing as the Firebenders surrounded them. They were outnumbered and outmanned. Using the boomerang would leave him vulnerable to attack and Katara wasn't in much of a condition to do a whole lot of Waterbending.

"We can do this one of two ways." the lead soldier spoke up, stepping forward. "The easy way, where you surrender quietly and we go easy on you. Or the hard way, which I don't need to explain to you."

Katara and Sokka didn't even have to look at each other. The harsh icy tundra of the South Pole made even the youngest of its inhabitants into survivors and one or two weeks of their northward traipse had been particularly rough. With all the energy and effort they had expended to get this far, they weren't going to give up just because some Fire Nation thug told them to.

Katara shoved the staff at Sokka and uncorked her water skin -- she was rarely apart from it -- and Bent the water into the thinnest whip she could make, and lashed it out at the soldiers. The soldiers ducked and dodged, but the Waterbender was working on a combination of fear and illness-induced stress and the instinctual movements were coming to the surface. Katara wasn't such much as moving water as the water was moving her. It was knew what it was doing more than she did and she fell into the movements with the fluid grace of a master.

Sokka ducked as the stream of water swished over his head and then charged at the soldier who had stepped back to avoid the brunt of the water-whip. It looked like the weakest point. The soldier in question was not prepared to stop the teenager. Sokka mowed him down, alternately bashing him over the helmet with the boomerang, leaving formidable dents, and hitting his exposed sides with the staff. The Firebender staggered backwards and dropped like a stone. The siblings jumped on the opening before the rest of the soldiers could properly recover from Katara's sudden attack.

"We've got to get off this mountain!" Katara said as they ran through the underbrush and dodging low-slung tree branches. The spring growth hadn't kicked in yet, but there was still plenty left over from the years prior. "Where's Appa?! And where's Aang?!"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!" Sokka replied. "Katara, I don't wanna alarm you, but I don't think Aang has been back for two days!"

"What?!" Katara stumbled over a root, but did not fall. "It has not been two days!"

"Something's tellin' me it has!" Sokka said with a shrug. "I can't think of any other reason I had to pee like a--"

"Sokka look out!" Katara shrieked, grabbing his arm.

Two steps later, Sokka found himself looking over a short drop and an expanse of mud. Even with Katara trying to pull him back, it turned out to be a lost cause. They were running downhill and there was more than enough forward momentum to send them both careening over the drop and down through the slick mud, Sokka hitting face-first, Katara at his back, both screaming the whole way.

It was a bit like penguin-sledding, Katara realized somewhere in the back of her mind, except she was not clinging to the back of a penguin, but rather her older brother instead. Sokka got a mouthful of mud as they went flying down the mountain-side. His consolation was that thanks to the recent rains, this was all mud instead of hard dirt.

The wild ride ended at an even longer drop down to a muddy, swampy river-like body of water. Like a greased pig-cow, Sokka shot over the edge of the cliff and the two Water Tribe siblings -- apparently gripped by a bout of bad luck -- plunged headlong into the half-frozen swamp, their screams swallowed by the mud.

The pursuing Fire Nation soldiers had better luck at stopping themselves before falling over the side, mainly because Sokka had unintentionally cleared a path.

"Do we go after them, sir?" one soldier asked.

The lead soldier carefully moved up to the edge and peered down to the swampy mess. It was thick and opaque and there was no sign of the Avatar's traveling companions. There was a chance that the two had survived the fall, but the soldier didn't want to go mucking around in there to find out and he knew that his fellows felt the same way. Muddy armor was hell to clean. And anyways, if those brats had survived, they would have come up by now.

"Leave them. If they do make it, they have nowhere to go. Let nature kill them." he finally replied. "We have to send a report to Admiral Zhao."

"And the lemur, sir?" The soldier pointed up to the tiny form that was circling on the air currents far over their heads.

The lead soldier frowned behind his face plate. "If you want to try and take it out, be my guest." he said. "Back to the stronghold!"

Muttering about things such as the weather and the birds that often took to pooping on them from the air, the Fire Nation soldiers started their trek back up the mountain side to get back to the road. One remained briefly and contemplated the circling lemur before deciding that it wasn't worth the effort it would take to shoot it down and went after his comrades. Another moment later, the mud and water parted violently and Sokka gasped loudly for air. Katara emerged from the swamp with far less enthusiasm -- as it were -- listening for any voices but they were wonderfully absent. The coast was clear.

"Okay," Sokka furiously wiped the mud off his face. "That was too close!"

"At least we're off the mountain." Katara said, wading over to the shore.

"Oh, hah, hah." Sokka deadpanned sarcastically, following her out of the river.

"What was that about?" Katara wondered as Momo came in to land on the nearest tree branch, trilling happily.

"Oh, probably just the usual." Sokka said flippantly, knocking the water out of his ears. "Trying to kill us!"

"You implied that you knew." Katara reminded him, starting to pull her wet and muddy anorak off.

"Oh... About that..." Sokka looked vaguely sheepish as he replaced his boomerang back in its holster. "Uh, Katara? I think Aang has been missing for at least two days now."

"But how can it be two days?" Katara asked, in the middle of squeezing the water out of a sleeve. "It's only been one day, right?"

"I think it's been two days." Sokka said again, rubbing the back of his head. "The last thing I can really remember is Aang leaving to go see some herbalist and my next memory is getting up to pee and I just got this weird feeling that I'd been out a lot longer than just one night. I was sick, y'know."

"I know--" Katara was interrupted by a loud sneeze, her entire body jerking. She moaned softly, shoulders slumped, and rubbed her nose morosely.

"And you still are! C'mon, it's still cold out here!" Sokka ushered her further into the shelter of the trees, glancing over his shoulder for any unfriendly eyes. He didn't see any, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was someone watching them. Someone who was not Momo.

Sokka dared to venture back up to the temple to retrieve their supplies. He didn't want to leave his sister alone with just Momo and a crackling fire, in case those soldiers came back. But the clothes on their backs were wet and Katara needed warm, dry clothes right away or else she was just going to get sicker. He kept one eye on the sky for any flying bison and one eye on his surroundings for those soldiers. But they seemed to have left, because he got back to their new campsite unmolested.

"Okay, here's the thing. I woke up and Appa was already gone. I figured he'd left to get some breakfast, but the other thing was, Aang was gone too. And he left his glider." Sokka pointed to the staff now laying at Katara's side.

"But he usually has it with him." Katara said thoughtfully, huddling deeper into the blanket and absently stroking Momo in her lap.

"That's my point." Sokka said. He started to pace, obviously agitated. "Firstly, Aang does not leave his glider behind! Secondly, Appa would stay in sight of the temple! Thirdly, we are never randomly attacked by the Fire Nation! They always come after us for a reason! Aang happens to be that reason and he wasn't there this time! So why'd they attack us?!"

He had stopped pacing and was looking somewhat frantic by now.

"I'm telling you Katara, something weird is going on! I just got a feeling that it's been two days! Aang is missing! He has to be!"

Katara didn't say anything at first. Sokka had made a good point and if he was right about two days having passed -- which was entirely possible; her stomach was insisting that it was -- without Aang returning, then something must have been wrong. Aang was the only reason the Fire Nation had any interest in two teenagers from the Southern Water Tribe.

Her stomach growled again.

"Let's get something to eat." she said. "And then we should go and find Appa."

Sokka nodded and slowly sank to the ground, his legs crossed.

"We're not that far from the town." he said in a low voice. "We should ask around; find out what happened."

Katara made a vague noise of agreement. While Sokka rummaged around for the food they had packed, she stared at the heart of the fire and wondered.

* * *

"A bison, you say? And it flies?" the old man asked, chewing noisily on the wad of smokeleaf.

"Uh-- yes. Have you seen anything like that recently? Like, this morning or earlier?" Sokka asked wearily, getting tired of running into dead ends. No one they had asked so far had seen hide or hair of Appa. He couldn't really understand _how_. Appa was big, white and fluffy and impossibly hard to miss.

The old man closed his eyes, lips pursed and looking thoughtful. Then he spat a mouthful of leaf juice and saliva onto the dock centimeters from Sokka's foot. The boy recoiled.

"If you're smoking anythin', I'll take two of each." he said gleefully, holding up two fingers. Sokka face-palmed. The old man was obviously lacking in wits from years of sucking on smokeleaf. He had heard those things could really mess a person up in the head.

"C'mon Sokka, let's go ask someone else." Katara put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Someone who isn't stoned." she added pointedly. The old man gave the siblings an innocent look that made him look more like a rapist. The two turned away.

"A flyin' bison, you said?" the old man piped up suddenly, dragging their attention back to him.

"Listen you; we're done talking about this." Sokka jabbed a finger at the wrinkled old face. "Unless you can give us any _useful_ information, we have no reason to talk to you."

The old man rubbed his scrubby beard and spat out another glob of leaf juice and saliva. Again, it landed centimeters from Sokka's foot.

"Stop that!" the boy snapped, half-dancing away from the unsightly wet patch. "These are my only pair of boots! I have nothing else to wear if they get ruined!"

"Funny news goin' 'round." the old man said, plainly not hearing Sokka's complaints. "I hear that the Avatar--"

The Water Tribe siblings were suddenly rapt with attention. Momo wrapped his tail around Katara's shoulder for an added grip.

"People are sayin' he got captured by them Fire Nation people." the old man finished.

"What?!" Katara gasped. "When?!"

"Thought I had no reason to talk to you." the old man commented, stuffing a new wad of smokeleaf into his mouth.

"Tell us everything you know!" Sokka roared, seizing the front of the old man's tunic. The old man let out a low cry and attempted to scuttle away, but Sokka had a pretty tight grip.

"Sokka--" Katara started to tell her brother off for terrorizing old men.

"Two days ago!" the old man said, waving a hand. "Fire Nation ships left the harbor two days ago! Scuttlebutt was that the Avatar was aboard! Prisoner! Thought you'd want to hear 'bout it 'cause you were askin' 'bout a flyin' bison and everyone says that the Avatar rides a flyin' bison!"

A silence persisted over the three for a moment.

"Aang was captured by the Fire Nation?" Katara asked in a whisper. The old man nodded and Sokka let go, his hands going limp.

"Thanks for your help." he said and without looking, he turned on his heels and started to walk away. Katara followed a few seconds later. The old man watched them go.

"Always happy to help." he said and then turned his attention back to the ocean glittering in front of him. It was a lovely day. Maybe he would get out on his boat later. The water was fine.

Feeling lost and uncertain, the two teenagers walked out of the small port town, no longer knowing anything about the road ahead. Two days ago, they had known exactly where they were going. To the North Pole, so both Aang and Katara could learn Waterbending. Suddenly, their reason for going there seemed to be gone. What was the point of going north if Aang wasn't with them? Katara suddenly didn't know if she wanted to learn Waterbending anymore. Sure, it had been her inability to properly control her talent that had gotten them into this in the first place. She had broken the iceberg, leading to Aang's awakening. And she knew Waterbending was her peoples' ancient heritage, but--

"Do you still want to go to the North Pole?" Sokka interrupted her line of thought. "Because we can still go."

"I-- I don't know." Katara admitted, rubbing an arm and looking away. Momo trilled softly. "It doesn't seem like we have a reason to anymore."

"We can always go home." Sokka offered half-heartedly.

"Gran-Gran would murder us in our sleep if we came back." Katara pointed out. She didn't want to disappoint the old woman. Gran-Gran had seen them off, expecting them to change the world. "We can try and rescue Aang."

Sokka froze mid-stride.

"Whoa! Katara!" He whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders. "Think about what you just said. Rescue Aang? From the Fire Nation? Do you know how impossible that is?!"

"We have to try!" Katara snapped so harshly that Momo took to the air with a squeak. "Aang's our friend! We can't just leave him alone to whatever Fate's going throw at him! We have to go rescue him!"

"Let me rephrase that." Sokka cleared his throat. "Do you know how impossible that is **without** Appa?"

Any more arguing words died in Katara's throat. There was a large ocean between the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation and there was no way they were going to get across it without some mode of transportation. Of course they were going to need Appa.

"Let's keep looking then!" she said, marching ahead. Momo landed on Sokka's shoulder and made a questioning trill.

"You see that Momo?" Sokka grinned at the lemur. "I won."

Momo's ears went down, unimpressed.

They walked for another fifteen or so minutes, Momo alternately flying or hitching a ride on one of their shoulders. They crossed the bridge of a wide river, swollen from the winter thaw and more out of the habit of checking the water level before she crossed any bridge, Katara glanced down. If she hadn't, she never would have seen the red tinge of blood. Her heart gave a single strong thud that sent her racing upstream amidst Sokka's shouts about being left behind.

Katara couldn't explain her sudden, urgent need to get upstream as fast as possible, but the weirdest sense of desperation spurred her on. The blood could have come from anything and she had to see what that thing was. It could even have come from a Sky Bison.

And she was horrified to discover that her thoughts were right.

"Appa!" She hurried up to the fallen bison.

"Oh man..." Sokka breathed, jogging forwards, at a loss for any other words.

Appa had clearly tussled with some Fire Nation soldiers and come off the worst. Great patches of white fur were singed and there were angry burns on his belly. His middle left leg had an ugly gash on it. The blood had clotted over somewhat, but it was clear that this had happened recently. He had slumped down in the river to both numb the pain and clean the wounds. Some of the grass near the riverbank by his head was a great deal shorter than the grass further along.

Katara slipped into the water, momentarily forgetting her own sickness. She shivered as the water soaked up through her clothes but waded forward with determination. Appa's mass buffered the current enough that she wouldn't get swept away and she made her way over to the injured leg. The bison let out a massive grunt when her fingers touched the wound very lightly.

"It's okay, Appa." Katara assured him, stroking the great beast's side. "We'll get all this fixed up and you'll be better in no time."

"It's definitely going to be a few days before we can go anywhere." Sokka observed. He sighed. "Sorry Aang."

"We can't make Appa fly like this." Katara said decisively, biting her lip. She didn't know what else to do. Leaving the bison behind was not an option she even wanted to begin to consider. If Aang had been captured by the Fire Nation, it fell to the two of them to take care of Appa and Momo until they could get Aang back.

"Uh... Katara?"

"Yeah?"

Sokka was pointing down to her right hand, which was sitting just to the side of the gash. To her utmost surprise, the water around her hand had begun to glow with a soft blue light. As she watched, the wound began to clot over and then close up. And then, slowly, the white fur re-grew and then the glow died.

"Whoa..." Sokka said, his eyes wide. Momo twittered in what could be construed as amazement.

Katara raised her hand from the water and stared at it like it didn't belong to her. She had healed the wound? Or the water had. That's right; water was considered a cleanser; what washed everything clean.

She looked at the remainder of Appa's injuries and her raised hand clenched into a fist. No dawdling. She had some work to do.

* * *


	3. The Failure

**A/N:** Whoo-hoo! More Zhao! He's fun to write. Got this up later than I meant to, but had a bit of an upset and then I got distracted with another story. In other words...

To my _Transformers_ readers! I am updating **'Til All Are One** this Friday! You read that right! There will finally be an update on that danged story!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Avatar: the Last Airbender_. Nor do I own any chunks of dialogue lifted directly from the episodes.

* * *

**Flight of the Phoenix**

Chapter Three: The Failure

* * *

The room smelled awful. That in itself wasn't too surprising. Locked in that room were two boys; one already a teenager, the other on the cusp of adolescence; both growing, both changing and both capable of producing massive amounts of stink. It was one of the many reasons Zhao had a strong dislike for anyone younger than the age of eighteen. The teenagers always got so sweaty so fast and simply stunk until they could get themselves into a bath.

And after four and a half days of being locked in a room that was only a stone's throw from the boiler room so all the heat collected here and no chance to bathe (so the room reeked of foul body odors), with minimal amounts of food (enough to keep them alive and standing but not enough to allow them the strength to Bend to any great degree), and only two visits to the head within every twenty-four hours (causing the room to smell of human waste, though considerably less prominently), the overall stench was nearly overwhelming.

Oh, he imagined that the two boys had probably stopped noticing the stink after a while, but Zhao had deliberately avoided coming here during the voyage, so the smell was really brand-new to him. It took a moment for the smell to become tolerable and then he moved on. He knew how important capturing the Avatar had been to Prince Zuko and he wanted to see the boy squirm when he finally arrived.

Today was the day when Zuko's life would officially come to an end.

Zhao wanted to enjoy every second of it.

The guards unbarred the door and tromped in, brandishing their spears needlessly. It was little more than a show of power. The two boys didn't look up to doing much. The Avatar had slumped low to the floor, looking pale and drawn and there were darkish circles under his eyes. When he tilted his head up to look at the approaching guards, there appeared to be a very fine, barely noticeable gloss of dark hair on the shaved scalp. With his neck straight, the dark shadowing disappeared. The previously purple-black bruise had turned a yellow-green around the edges.

As for Prince Zuko, he didn't bother to look up or acknowledge the presence of the guards or Admiral Zhao in any way. A mark of disrespect. No matter the rank of the officer, one **always** acknowledged the entrance with the proper respect. Just because Zuko was the prince -- though it probably wouldn't be that way for much longer -- it didn't excuse him from being respectful to his elders.

The guards hauled the Avatar roughly to his feet, causing him to cry out as his injuries were mercilessly jostled.

"Careful!" Zhao barked, causing the guards to pause. "He is not to be damaged!"

_A bit late for that._ He added mentally, eyeing the bandages around the Avatar's left hand. The boy's hands were being rebound behind his back. For the duration of the trip, they had been tied in front of him to prevent any further injury to the wounded right shoulder, but now it was time for them to go behind his back. The same was being done to Zuko.

Despite the substandard meals and the lack of proper rest, the Airbender obviously still had some fight left in him, for he dug his heels into the floor and resisted every step of the way. Zuko stood up before the guards could reach him and exited the room under his own steam. The guards swiftly took up position on either side of him to negate the thoughts of any funny stuff. Zhao turned quickly to leave the foul-smelling room behind and slunk up between the guards to be right next to the prince.

"Trying to maintain your dignity, I see." the admiral said scathingly. Zuko didn't bat an eye. "I promise you that your father is going to rip every last shred of dignity from you before he allows you the sanctuary of a prison cell." He smiled, content in the knowledge that he had won. "And I am very much looking forward to seeing it."

The barely suppressed twitch in Zuko's eye informed Zhao that his words had hit a deep nerve and he walked ahead to catch up with the still-struggling Avatar.

"And you." he said to the boy, clamping a hand tightly on the injured shoulder. "It will be interesting to see what the Fire Lord has in store for you. We can't kill you, obviously, but there are a number of ways to keep you subdued."

"Try 'em all! My friends will be busting me out in two days! Tops!" the Avatar replied with an edge of the heroism that Zhao hated. "I'm not afraid of you!"

"While it normally is a very good idea to be afraid of what I can do to you, it's not me you should be afraid of for the time being." Zhao said with a smug smirk. Letting that linger, he lengthened his stride to get topside and check on the arrangements the Fire Lord had made for the two prisoners. Yes, everything was falling into place now. The Avatar, the last of the Airbenders, was in Fire Nation custody. All that was left now was to wipe out the Northern Water Tribe -- the Southern Tribe was too pathetic to make the effort worthwhile -- and crush the Earth Kingdom. And then Fire Lord Ozai would reign supreme over all the land.

Zhao couldn't wait.

Out in the port, the smaller warship found a place at the long docks. Iroh stood on the deck beside Lt. Jee, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his face carefully arranged as to not betray his feelings on the matter. He had never thought that he could be so unhappy to see his home country again; never thought that the air wouldn't smell as sweet. He could not smell any of the early-blooming wildflowers or the cherry blossoms that always bloomed at this time of year. The only scents that accompanied the wind were smoke, iron, sulfur, and brimstone, born from the presence of so many Firebenders and volcanoes. All the smells that supposedly existed in the depths of Hell. For a moment, Iroh wondered if he had stumbled through the gates of Hell by accident. He'd had no appetite these last four days and his tea had never tasted so sour.

This was wrong.

Fortunately, he was not the only person who had such thoughts.

"I did want to come home," Lt. Jee started. "But I didn't think I'd be coming home under these circumstances." His gaze slid sideways, off the shore he had yet to set foot on. "General Iroh, what do you think is going to happen to the prince?"

Iroh took a deep breath and released it.

"My brother is not known for his mercy." the old general said. "I'm afraid, Lt. Jee, that I cannot give you a straight answer. This is uncharted waters for everyone. We will have to be patient and see how the following events play out."

Lt. Jee did not appear very happy with the answer, but he chose not to question any further. There was no point; if no straight answer could be given. He wasn't going to admit even on pain of death, but three years at sea had heightened his tolerance levels, he had come to respect the prince and he had grown used to being around the impulsive idiot. There were times where Zuko could be a downright nice guy, rare as they were. Lt. Jee had a suspicion that if he asked around the crew, he would find that many of his ship-mates shared similar opinions of the prince. Wouldn't Zuko be surprised at the level of respect he unknowingly commanded?

But all of that meant squat now. They were back home and Zuko was powerless in the shadow of Fire Lord Ozai.

A strong breeze ruffled hair and clothes alike as Aang was finally forced above deck, as if the wind was greeting its last Bender. Despite the situation he was in, he looked around the port, gray eyes alight with interest. The deviations from his memory were subtle and he couldn't quite catch them unless he was really looking for them. A century's worth of erosion had narrowed the protective arms of the port by inches, widening the expanse of water. He could just barely see the volcano caldera where the capital city was located and wondered how different it was now.

To avoid running into anyone who might possibly still support their banished prince, the warships had been brought into the military harbor that was located up an inlet behind the capital city. It had added that extra half-day to their travel time, but it was small price to pay for bypassing the people looking for the next big story to gossip about.

There was a prison wagon awaiting the prisoners at the end of the dock on dry land, ready to be pulled by a team of ostrich-horses. The primal instincts started to take hold and Aang realized that if he didn't make an attempt to escape now, he wasn't going to get another chance.

He eyed the guards on either side of him. They were gripping his arms tight enough to make anyone else think twice about escaping, but other than that, they weren't paying much attention to him. He didn't have enough strength to Airbend his way out of this -- Zhao had seen to that -- but he had to do something and he had to do it now. That wagon was getting closer with every step.

Stubborn determination kicked in and Aang dug his heels into the dock. It was made of wood and this time, he successfully halted the forward procession. Before the guards could shove him along, the Airbender yanked himself backwards and out of the unprepared grips. He crouched low and in a neat spin-kick, knocked the guards down. The others rushed forward to stop him, but Aang dodged their attempts as well and leapt over the side of the dock into the moderately deep water of the port.

"After him!" a guard ordered.

"Into the water?"

"Yes, into the water! Don't let him escape! The Fire Lord would have our heads!"

Reluctantly, the guards dropped their spears, pulled off their helmets and followed the Avatar into the water. Zuko raised his eyebrow, half-marveling at the Airbender's courageously stupid bid for freedom and at the same time, cursing him. He was a fool if he thought he was going to get away.

The heavy armor had the Fire Nation soldiers sinking right to the bottom, but it wasn't like Aang was having much better luck. He was still had heavy chains on his arms, his wounds still pained him and four and a half days of sitting around and doing nothing expect staring at unchanging walls with bad food had taken a toll. With his arms bound, he wasn't as fast or as agile as he normally was. He also hadn't taken a proper breath of air before diving and he fought to rise to the surface.

Where the remaining soldiers were waiting.

Zuko winced sympathetically as the pole ends of several spears came flying at the Avatar, beating him about the neck and shoulders. The soldiers were quick to haul him out of the water -- he had surfaced just on the other side of the pier -- before he sank again. With the boy suspended limply between the two guards, groaning softly, the procession continued on to the wagon. A few soldiers stayed behind to help their comrades out of the water. Zuko breathed a soft sigh. He couldn't explain away the momentary hope that had sparked in his heart, but who was he kidding? Even if the Avatar had been successful in eluding the soldiers and making his escape, there was no way he would come back for the person who had done nothing but chase him around in hopes of capturing him.

No, he had to accept the full gravity of the situation. There was no one coming to rescue either of them.

Into the wagon they were shoved, the iron frame creaking and rattling as the ostrich-horses pulled it up the rough path. They would arrive at the "back door" of the palace. Zuko had only seen it once. When he had been four years old, a group of intrepid Earth Kingdom soldiers had attempted to lay siege to the capital city. To their credit, they had made it through the palace gates, forcing the royal family to be evacuated. He remembered being carried through an underground tunnel down to a heavily-fortified bunker. Had the Earth Kingdom soldiers made it any further in, they would have evacuated the bunker as a precautionary measure. Through the "back door". Every palace had one. It was stupidity not to.

A heavy, sinking feeling grew in the pit of Zuko's stomach as they passed through the "back door" and into the subterranean tunnels. Aang had regained his wits by this time and unlike Zuko, he did not have the same sinking feeling. He kept looking around, eyes wide with wonder. He had never known this part of the Fire Nation capital had existed.

"Hey, are we under the palace?" he asked curiously.

"Be silent." a guard said harshly.

"But I just want to know if we are." Aang said in a small voice, a look of hurt on his face. Was there something wrong with being curious?...

Zuko hoped that the Avatar would have the sense to keep his mouth shut and his eyes down when they were brought before the Fire Lord.

He closed his eyes on the trip through the palace proper. He did not want to see the corridors of the place where he had grown up. He did not want to see the faces of the palace staff. He could already hear them whispering and gasping. He didn't need to see. Memory guided his feet along a familiar path. How many times had he walked it; whether to see his father or his grandfather? All he knew was that he had walked down it often enough to traverse it with his eyes closed. He did not open his eyes until his footsteps went from soft carpet to the hard marble floor of the throne room.

To Zuko's unmatched horror, the throne room was packed with every official from within the Fire Nation capital and beyond. Instead of a sinking feeling in his stomach, his stomach seemed to be gone altogether, taking his lungs with it. He couldn't seem to breathe right and for a moment, the room spun dizzily. His heart pounded so hard, he thought it was going to burst from the confines of his chest. This was what Zhao had meant when he said that the Fire Lord was going to rip every last shred of dignity from him before granting him the sanctuary of a prison cell. Every important person in the Fire Nation was going to see the fall of their prince.

Zuko scanned the length and width of the throne room, searching out familiar faces. At least half of these people he had seen at one point or another in his childhood and all of them were loyal to his father. He saw his sister Azula, standing at the bottom of the steps that led up to the throne. Her eyes gleamed like molten lava in the light from the many torches, her lips curved in a vicious smirk of triumph. He couldn't expect any help coming from her. There was little love lost between the siblings. Azula must have been waiting for this moment for a long time.

Then he caught sight of his uncle, standing in the back and only half-visible. The old man glanced in his direction and a split second was all Zuko could take. A lump swelled in his throat and he tore his eyes away from his uncle. He didn't want to see the disappointment he knew would be there. He doubted he would ever be able to make eye contact with his uncle again. There would be no help coming from that direction either.

So this was what it felt like to be truly alone.

And then, from beyond the palisade of fire, Fire Lord Ozai rose gracefully to his feet, his face lit by the flames but still cold and expressionless. The fire parted for its master as he strode forward, down to the steps to the main floor. As he did, the entire convocation dipped their heads in a bow. The guards forced both Aang and Zuko to their knees on the cold marble floor, shoving their heads down in a mockery of subservience.

Ozai eyed the two prisoners being presented to him. The Avatar -- the runt of an Airbender who had defied the Fire Nation for one hundred years; by running and hiding. The dead Air Nomads would be ashamed to call this boy one of their own; much less take pride in calling him the Avatar.

And his own son -- the failure. A dishonorable, failure of a son. He wasn't going to give Zuko a chance to defend himself. As far as Ozai was concerned, Zuko had nothing to defend.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Ozai raised his hands, calling for everyone's attention. "I am glad that you were all able to gather here today, to witness this!" He pointed to the bound prisoners. "Our greatest victory! And our greatest failure!"

Zuko flinched, the words cutting deep. Aang winced sympathetically, though he had no idea what it was like to be called a failure by someone who shared your blood. He just guessed that it had to hurt.

"The greatest threat to total victory has at last been abolished! The noble Admiral Zhao has successfully captured and delivered the Avatar to our mighty homeland!" Ozai went on triumphantly. "His name shall be engraved in the hearts and memories of our people for all time!"

There was a great roar that reverberated throughout the cavernous room. Zuko grit his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. Aang shivered under the somehow unearthly sound. Ozai turned to the Airbender.

"How does it feel, Avatar?" the Fire Lord asked, still speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. "How does it feel to be the last of your people? To be the last member of a group of people who tried to eradicate the glorious Fire Nation?"

"_What_?!" The word snapped out of Aang's mouth before he could stop himself. "You've got it wrong! The Fire Nation attacked the Air Nomads! We don't even have an army--"

"Silence!" Ozai barked. "You will speak only when I allow you to."

He looked so dangerous, especially with the smoke rising from his clenched fists, that Aang's throat suddenly went dry. A scratchy coughing noise escaped him and he lowered his head. With so many people around him who were against him, it was in his best interest to say as little as possible.

"And you, my son." Ozai now turned to Zuko, shaking his head in a disapproving fashion. "How could you fail me so?"

Zuko tried his hardest to sink into the floor, to escape this situation. It was worse than he had imagined, with so many eyes focused on him. For the first time in his life, he sort of wished that he was an Earthbender. At least then, he could hide away from this.

"I generously gave you the means to redeem yourself." Ozai said, staring down his nose at the prince. "And you returned my good faith with unforgivable failure. I am ashamed to call you my son."

Zuko flinched again, his eyes starting to burn. He tried not to let it show, but it was anyways. He knew it from the sudden shift in his father's stance.

"A true prince of the Fire Nation does not show his feelings." the Fire Lord said. "You must be more of a fool than I had realized before. I am almost sorry that it has to come to this."

A hand holding a short dagger emerged from the depths of the long sleeve. Ozai unsheathed the thin blade and took three steps forward. He reached down with one hand and seized Zuko's phoenix tail. Zuko bit his lip as his hair was mercilessly pulled and drew blood when he realized what was coming next. With the dagger in his other hand, Ozai cut off the long tail of hair. He held it up for all to see like it was a trophy. The tears Zuko had been struggling to hold back overflowed and spilled down his face. The phoenix tails were a traditional part of Fire Nation dress -- every child with hair long enough wore their hair in such a fashion. To cut it off meant that you were publicly announcing that you had cut the ties of loyalty to your country. And to have someone else cut it off...

"Had you learned the lessons of respect and honor that your exile was to teach you, you would not be suffering such an indignity right now." the Fire Lord said. He ran his fingers through the unattached strands and then threw the phoenix tail into the flames. The smell of burning hair quickly became obvious in the crowded hall.

"You will never become the Fire Lord. I hereby strip you of your rank and title as the firstborn prince of the Fire Nation. You are a disgrace to this people and this country." Ozai spat, tucking the dagger away. He made gesture to the surrounding guards. "Take these two away to the prison tower. I never want to see them again."

The guards came forward to do just that. Aang fought for just a moment until two fingers were driven hard into his injured shoulder and the resulting pain was enough to stun him for a second or two, enough the guards could get secure grips. Zuko, on the other hand, seemed wholly resigned to his new fate and he allowed the guards to take him without a fight.

"Farewell, Zuko." Ozai raised a hand in what could be construed as a farewell to someone who didn't know better. "When the armies of the Fire Nation march victoriously over the ruins of Ba Sing Se, may you finally realize what road your dishonorable actions have led you down."

The Fire Lord then turned and marched back up the stairs, returning to his throne. The throne room erupted into another roar as the nobles and officials immediately began to debate over what this new development would mean for the Fire Nation. The Avatar had been captured, meaning their victory in the war was now assured. And their prince was officially announced deposed, meaning that Azula would one day ascend to the rank of Fire Lord; the first woman on the throne since before the reign of Fire Lord Sozin.

What did that mean?

Iroh was certain that he knew exactly what it meant. It meant that the Fire Nation was ruined in advance. If the next heir was _Azula_, of all people.

The Fire Princess couldn't be construed as sane in very many contexts. She was a prodigy; better than many of the master Firebenders out there and even better than her own brother. And she had known it. She was the favorite of her father and it had gone straight to her head, fueling the sadistic nature that had been present within her from a very young age. She had never played with her dolls. She had tortured them and burned them; had stuck their heads on pikes and had displayed them in the courtyard, causing the maids to hurry and clear away the grisly display before any visiting nobleman saw it. Her kind words were always laced with sarcasm and venom; she had never truly meant any of them. She seemed to enjoy watching people suffer -- especially people named Zuko.

It meant that when the day came that Azula took the throne as the next Fire Lord, the Fire Nation would finally trip ass over head. There would be no one there to help it back to its feet.

Only when they were so far in the pit that they couldn't see the sunlight anymore, they would realize what this war had led them to.

And on that day, Ozai would pay dearly for making such a foolish mistake.

* * *

They said that there was no place like home.

Some days, Iroh still wondered who this mysterious "they" were.

Nonetheless, it was true. Even if he didn't like the circumstances under which he had come home, it was nice to be back his own rooms after three years at sea; with its thick rug and wonderful view of the lake behind the palace. He always liked watching the moon rise over the water and some nights there would a light mist, making the view appear just that much more ethereal and mystical.

It happened to be one of those nights, where the mist shifted softly with the breeze and the nocturnal fish splashed gently along the surface. Iroh sat on the balcony with a hot cup of ginseng tea and watched the silver crescent moon ascend through the wispy clouds. He had brewed the tea himself. Bless the palace staff for all their hard work, but for the life of any of them, they couldn't brew tea just the way he liked it. He had found that it tasted better when he did it himself.

He sensed more than heard his chamber door glide open. Footsteps moved briskly across the rug and to the balcony door. There, his visitor halted.

"I came to see that you were settling in alright." Ozai said. "This must be quite a change from the warship."

"It is too cold in my room." Iroh said, not looking around.

"I find it too cold out here." Ozai replied. He sounded almost kind. "Come inside brother, and tell me about the last three years. You traveled the world. The things you must have seen."

"I am too tired tonight." Iroh said, not deterred. He did not want to speak to his brother more than was necessary and he was willing to spend the night out here if it came to that. "I am an old man. I need my rest."

"As you wish, dearest brother." Ozai said with the barest trace of a sneer. Etiquette dictated that he was to always be polite to his honored older brother.

He turned to leave.

"Ozai."

The Fire Lord paused and looked over his shoulder. "Yes?"

Iroh took a fortifying sip of tea.

"Was the scene in the throne room today truly necessary?" he asked, gently placing his teacup on the small table.

"Yes!" Ozai turned fully, his sleeping robe swirling about. "My son stained his honor by refusing to stand up and fight three years ago! He tarnished the noble image of this esteemed royal family!" Thin streams of fire blew from his fingertips as his hand lashed through the air. "It is essential that a traitor learns his place!"

"No!" Iroh stood up swiftly, restrained anger burning hot in his voice. "**My** nephew respected his father."

Iroh nearly bit his tongue. He did not know where such possessiveness had come from. But he had been more of a father to Zuko in six years than Ozai had been in ten years.

Golden eyes met golden eyes, both burning with the flames they were well-known for.

"The task of capturing the Avatar was given to **Zuko**. Not Admiral Zhao. Even I did not anticipate that Zuko would stand idly by while Zhao attempted to claim the honor for himself." the old general went on, keeping a careful eye on his younger, but less predictable brother. "Zuko spent three years hunting the Avatar. He would not allow his hard work to be taken by someone less deserving. He hunted the Avatar because he thought-- No, he **believed** that by capturing the Avatar, he would finally earn the respect and approval he wanted from his father. He was defending his right to his honor and you lay upon him a punishment whose severity is out of proportion with the supposed crime."

These words seemed to be a clincher, of sorts. Fire flared from within Ozai's tightly clenched fists and traveled up his arms to wreathe him in flames, but Iroh stood his ground. He would not stand by and listen to Ozai ream **his** nephew for an apparent failure. With what appeared to be great difficulty, the flames shrank back and Ozai calmed down. But he was still dangerous.

"Zuko is my son, disinherited or not. He was punished as I saw fit. He deserves every second of it." Ozai said. He drew himself fully upright, haughty and proud. "I am the Fire Lord. My rule is unquestioned."

There was no reasoning with him tonight. Iroh sighed.

"That it is." the old general conceded, tucking his hands into the opposite sleeves.

"I'm glad you still understand that." Ozai said. "I do not want to see you sent out to sea for another three years. I rather like having you at home again, brother."

_At home where you can keep any eye on me, you mean._ Iroh corrected silently. _The power behind the throne is not your generals nor is it even you. It is myself and Zuko. You never make decisions that will positively affect your brother and your son. You are afraid that Zuko will succeed you and you know that if that happens, I am right there to support him. You know that you must keep us in the corner for as long as possible. You fear the day that we will slip free._

Ozai gave a short, curt bow; more to show respect to his older brother. "I bid you good night, brother."

And he then swept out of the room, his footsteps fading down the hall. Out of sight, but certainly not out of mind. Iroh turned around, knowing on this side of the caldera, below the rim and out of sight, was the prison tower. He could trace the path from the palace that led to that awful place. Perhaps he would visit it tomorrow morning, when he could find the time.

And then, perhaps, he would find himself an excuse to leave the Fire Nation. He did not want to spend any more time trapped in Ozai's corner. He had enjoyed waking up in the mornings to find himself in a new place. Traveling the world could be exciting if you had the patience for it. The journey could be just as rewarding as the destination and he had seen some truly magnificent sights.

He was never going to be able to enjoy a nice cup of tea while he was still here.


	4. Air Flow

**A/N:** I'm alive. No really, I am. Been occupied. Job hunt going very badly thanks to the stupid unemployment rate. But I'm alive. Hi there.

I hear the live-action movie is due out July 2nd.

Bits of angst, ahoy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender. Nor do I own the small chunk of dialogue lifted directly from one episode.

* * *

**Flight of the Phoenix**

Chapter Four: Air Flow

* * *

It was morning. Zuko could sense the sun rising as keenly as he could hear his stomach growling. Firebenders rose with the sun. He could feel the heat of the sun welling up within him, begging to be released. But it never would be. Not while he was locked up in here like an animal.

_Trust my spirit-cursed father to discover a way to prevent a person from Bending._ He thought with an ugly sneer.

Before he had been placed in a cell, Zhao gleefully snapped a pair of heavy, unwieldy metal bracers over his wrists, ankles and around his neck and explained about the strange black crystals that were embedded deep in the metal. Supposedly, they were fragments of Sozin's Comet that had fallen over the Fire Nation one hundred years ago. The black crystals could not be Bent by any Earthbender nor could they be destroyed in any known way.

And, Zhao had added with the biggest shit-eating grin Zuko had ever seen on any one person, the black crystals could actually stop a person from Bending. Naturally, Zuko had tested this and to his alarm, nothing had happened. Not even a wisp of smoke had escaped his fingertips. Zhao had laughed, slapped him hard enough on the back to knock the air out of him and had shoved him into the cell.

And the bracers themselves could only be removed by a very special key. That key was currently in Ozai's hands. Meaning that these bracers weren't coming off any time soon.

The Fire Nation couldn't afford to have their disgraced prince or the Avatar Bending their way to escape.

Sighing, Zuko ran his hands over his head, faltering when his fingers did not encounter the familiar phoenix tail. His hair was already starting to re-grow; he could feel the slightest fuzz on his scalp, like a moonpeach. He wondered if his hair would grow long enough to hide the worst of the burn scar. He had gotten used to people staring at it a long time ago, but he hated looking at it. It only served to remind him of the day his life had spiraled downhill.

Three years ago. It felt like it had been so much longer since his father had banished him, setting him with the near-impossible task of finding the Avatar. He had been determined to do so, because it had been the only way to regain his honor. There had been times, in the small hours of the night after days of fruitless searching, where Zuko thought that he had sent on little more than a wild goose chase. The Avatar had eluded even the most skilled search party for decades and he had even run across a few fakes; people pretending to be Airbenders when they couldn't even blow out a candle without losing their breath. It had been so pathetic to see and just needless effort wasted.

So when he had found the **real** Avatar...

There had been no feeling of triumph; just renewed determination. He had finally had a real person to chase rather than a nameless specter. But he hadn't counted on other people moving in to steal his quarry after he had done all the work. He had thought Zhao would have more integrity than that.

Oh boy, had he been wrong on that account.

Zuko sighed again, contemplating the stone floor. Being locked up wasn't doing much good for him. He was starting to think too much; dwelling on the past and whatnot. Maybe if he counted the cobblestones, he could get his mind off it...

He had reached thirty-seven stones when the door to his cell swung open and in walked the last person he wanted to see.

"Zu-zu!" Azula cried in mock affection, striding forward with her arms open as if ready for a hug.

"Don't call me that!" Zuko snapped, more out of habit. He got to his feet. "What do you want?"

"I can't greet my big brother now? What a shame; I thought you would want some company after your long, cold night in here all by yourself." Azula said, sighing dramatically.

"I don't want your company." Zuko growled. "What do you want Azula?"

"You could at least say 'hello'." Azula sniffed, crossing her arms. "I came all the way down here to see you. Father doesn't want you having visitors. I had to sneak past the guards." she added, idly twirling a key ring around her index finger, the master key glinting in the torchlight quite prominently.

"I wanted to congratulate you on your spectacular failure, dear brother." she went on lazily, pocketing the key before her brother could get any ideas about grabbing it. "Really, I've never seen someone fall from grace before the way you have. But look at it this way." She grinned. It was as cold as her eyes. "Now everyone knows who you are. The dishonored and disinherited prince of the Fire Nation."

"Raah!" Zuko nearly dislocated his shoulder jamming it through the bars, trying to reach Azula so he could hurt her badly. But Azula had seen that coming and had halted just outside of arm's reach. Zuko's fingertips were less than an inch from her armor; so tantalizingly close and yet so far away at the same time. If only he could make his fingers grow another inch...

"You're going to hurt yourself doing that." the princess said, unruffled. "Forget it Zu-zu. The only way you're leaving here is if you're transferred. Even then, you would only be going to the Boiling Rock and it's not like that's a better place than here."

Zuko's arm dropped back to his side, limp.

"In fact, you should be grateful that you're still here." Azula said with that vicious smile of hers. "At least you're still close to home."

"I don't consider that a good thing." Zuko muttered, glaring.

"Think what you will." Azula heaved a sigh, examining her sharp, perfectly manicured nails. "Enjoy your time in here, however short it might be. Once the war has been won, Father is considering executing both you and the Avatar."

Before Zuko could so much as utter a sound, Azula left with her head held high, her steps light. The door slammed with a sort of finality and he slumped against the bars of his cage, and then he slid to the cool stone floor. Father was by no means the cuddly type, but he wouldn't seriously consider slaying his own flesh and blood, would he? No father would do something so atrocious.

"Azula always lies." Zuko whispered, willing himself to believe it. "Azula always lies."

_Yes, she always lies._ A smarmy little voice said. It sounded very much like Zhao's. _Azula always lies to __**you**__._

He must have sat there for a long time, his legs crumpled underneath him, his shoulder bent uncomfortably against the bars and a cramp developing in his neck, before the cell door opened, someone entered, and then it closed. He didn't look up at his visitor. It was going to be some nobleman or official; come to remind him that he had failed to uphold the honor of the Fire Nation; to ask him just where he had gone wrong; to spit in his face; to point and laugh at him; to ridicule him. That was all he was good for now. Not a prince, not a Firebender, not even worthy to be called a citizen of the Fire Nation.

He was nothing.

"Just get it over with." he whispered.

"No friendly 'hello' for your uncle?"

Equal parts horror and hope surged through Zuko at unimaginable speeds and his neck cracked loudly as he looked up. Uncle Iroh was standing there outside the bars, his hands in his sleeves, his eyes wide and almost puppy-like--

"Stop staring at me like that!" Zuko half-screamed and bolted to the other side of the cell, putting his head in the corner and shutting his eyes.

Iroh merely stepped up to the cage and kneeled down, looking sadly at his nephew. As if the poor boy hadn't suffered enough already, he had been forced into ragged prison clothes and the Bendless bracers that Ozai so rarely unearthed had been slapped on his wrists.

"Prince Zuko--" Iroh started.

"Don't call me that!" Zuko interrupted. "I'm not a prince! I'm not even a Firebender anymore!"

"Yes, you are." Iroh said, trying not to sigh. What kind of emotional damage had been inflicted upon his nephew in the recent hours? "You will always be a Firebender. Not even your father can take that away from you."

"But he did." Zuko argued, his forehead resting on the wall.

"No Prince Zuko--"

"I told you not to call me that."

Silence hung thick over the cell for a very long moment. Somewhere outside, a bird cheeped cheerfully as it winged its way through the mid-afternoon sunshine. For a fleeting instant, Zuko wished he could be that bird. He wished he could fly away from here and never have to look back.

"I failed."

"At what?" Iroh asked.

"I failed to capture the Avatar." Zuko replied. "I've lost everything."

"No, my nephew." Iroh shook his head. "You have not lost everything."

"Then what do I have left?!" Zuko cried in despair, facing his uncle. "My father took it all away from me! I have nothing left!"

"And whoever told you that is a liar." Iroh said, a knowing smile creeping across his face. "All you must do is open your eyes and you will see what has been right in front of you this whole time."

As usual, his uncle's semi-cryptic remarks failed to be fully understood right away and Zuko was left scowling. Hadn't the old man been listening?! Everything had hinged on delivering the Avatar to his father! Since he had failed to do so, he had lost it all! There was nothing left in front of him except-- except...

"Uncle?..." Zuko questioned uncertainly, starting to feel a bit faint. Iroh nodded, that smile of his still there. The teenager thought he felt something inside him crack and the deep-rooted human need for tactile contact was enough to wipe away any shame Zuko might felt from thinking he was being too needy. Uncle and nephew embraced through the bars; the only thing Zuko feeling shame for was the fact he was starting to cry again and he tried to hide it. He had never cried this much before.

"Tears are nothing to be ashamed of, Zuko." Iroh said, gently rubbing his back in a circular motion. "They are the body's way of removing the poison that plagues your mind. Let them out and I promise you will feel much better."

A dam seemed to be breaking. The tears were coming so fast that the torchlight above him had been reduced to a red-orange blur.

"But I made so many mistakes..." Zuko whispered, his voice muffled against his uncle's shoulder.

"All I saw were mistakes that anyone could have made." the old general said. "You are not immune to push and pull of the world. No one is. Our mistakes shape who we will become, so long as we learn from them. Now," He gently pushed Zuko back, hands still gripping his nephew's shoulders reassuringly. "Whenever I'm feeling lost and confused, I find that loosening a single rock will help the air to flow much more smoothly."

Confusion overtook every other emotion in one decisive blow.

"I thought you drank tea." Zuko deadpanned.

Iroh shrugged. "Tea helps."

He stood up, pulling his hands back into his sleeves.

"Where are you going?!" Zuko asked, not wanting to be left alone so soon.

"I'm afraid I can't spend too much time here." Iroh said apologetically. "Otherwise, my brother might think that I'm helping you."

"Is there any chance I could get out of here?" Zuko asked before his uncle reached the door. Iroh turned with a smile.

"That is up to you, my nephew." he said. "Loosening a rock will help the air to flow."

And with those as his final words, he exited the cell, leaving Zuko with a swell of affection for the old man, but also rather confused. He seriously hated how cryptic his uncle could be at times. It made him feel like an absolute idiot.

Nevertheless, Iroh would not have said that if it didn't have another meaning. So Zuko mulled over the words for a little bit.

_Loosening a rock... will help the air to flow..._ He thought, back to sitting in the corner. _Loosening a rock... a rock..._

It was almost an accident that he saw it. A single brick, half the size of its neighbors, jutted out of the wall, enough to be noticed, but not enough to be obtrusive. It was about level with his chin and half a foot away.

_Loosening a rock will help the air to flow._ Zuko repeated in his head, taking a hold of the brick and working it loose, wiggling it this way and that. It grinded free after a fashion and a stream of air blew through. He lowered his head to peer through the new hole and saw another cell that looked identical to his own, right down to the dusty floor. But this cell was not silent. There were rhythmic, slightly ragged breaths and Zuko face-palmed. **This** is what his uncle had meant by helping the air to flow? Seriously?! Was the old man daft?!

_Well..._ Zuko was struck by a sudden onset of second thoughts. _I suppose it wouldn't hurt to at least try..._

"Um--" He cleared his throat. "Avatar?"

No response. But he hadn't expected to get one.

He tried again.

"Airbender?"

No response again. Zuko took a deep breath, trying to quell his suddenly jangling nerves. It didn't work and he pulled away from the new gap. Maybe the Avatar didn't want to talk to him. Yeah, that was probably it... Who'd want to talk to him anyways?

Other than his uncle, that is.

But seriously, the Avatar wouldn't want to talk to him.

By the Spirits, was this really him? When did he start doubting himself? Being uncertain and having second thoughts? This wasn't him! He was supposed to be the strong, confident prince of the Spirit-cursed Fire Nation!

He was **supposed** to be.

He wasn't anymore, thank you very much, Admiral Zhao.

Zuko glanced at the hole in the wall.

Well, they always said that the third time was the charm, right?"

"A-Aang?"

There was a sudden scuffling noise, as if the Airbender had had no intention of replying until Zuko used his name.

"Zuko? Is that you?" The Avatar's voice came back muffled through the wall and a small hole. "Whoa, there's a brick missing! How long has that been there?"

The disgraced prince didn't know how to reply.

"I didn't think you would start talking to me." the Avatar admitted quietly. "What are you doing?"

"I have no idea." Zuko admitted, his voice low.

"How did you know I was in this cell? And how did you know about the brick?"

"My uncle knew." Zuko shrugged.

"Oh... Why are you talking to me?" The voice wasn't accusing; just curious. To Zuko, it was refreshing to hear someone not accusing him of being himself.

"I figured that talking to you would be better than talking to myself."

The Avatar was silent for a moment and for that moment, Zuko was afraid that the Airbender wouldn't respond.

"Your uncle's a nice guy." came the last response Zuko had expected. "He came to visit me earlier. Said he was sorry for everything that had happened so far." There was a heavy sigh. "I can't believe I let myself get captured like that."

"No, I'm the one who should be saying 'sorry'." Zuko corrected, shutting his eyes. "I'm the one who started this. I'm the reason you've barely had a moment's peace in the last few months. It's my fault that we're in this situation now. If I hadn't been so foolish..."

"But your uncle said that you were only doing what you thought was the right thing."

Zuko started, feeling shame flood him again.

"I mean, if I had to hunt down some legend because it was the only way to regain my honor and go home, I guess I'd be pretty desperate too." the Avatar went on. "I really shouldn't hold a grudge. You weren't there when the Fire Nation killed all my people."

"Go ahead and hate me for it." Zuko offered. "I carry that legacy. It was my great-grandfather who killed your people."

"But it wasn't **you**." the Avatar reminded him. "I really don't have much of a reason to hate you."

"Why?!" Zuko demanded. "I kept chasing you around--"

"And that's all you did." the Avatar pointed out. "You didn't actually hurt me or my friends."

Zuko opened his mouth to argue the point, but he realized that there was nothing to argue. He may have chased the Avatar around, scared his friends and shot fire at them, but he couldn't recall having actually hurt them. It wasn't until Zhao had stepped into the picture that--

He shook his head sharply. No matter what the Avatar said, he didn't deserve to be forgiven. Hunting someone down like an animal was no way to treat a person and that's exactly what he had done. The Avatar could say it, but that didn't mean Zuko would believe it.

* * *

Another chilly night had settled over the Fire Nation. Zuko shivered and pulled his prison clothes tighter around him. There was one thing he missed about having a full head of hair. It had provided wonderful insulation against the cold. He wondered how fast his hair was going to grow; if he would have a decent covering for the rest of the winter. The solstice hadn't been that long ago. There was still a lot of winter left and he didn't want to freeze his ears off.

He did not feel tired at all and the cold air was stripping him of any desire to sleep anyways. He had negated the worst of his boredom by meditating and practicing his katas all day. Yes, he was locked up, but that was no excuse. The day might-- No, the day **would** come where he was able to escape and he was not going to compromise his chances just because he had lost his focus and his muscle tone. Zuko had hissed that to the Avatar as well, hoping to light a (metaphorical) fire under the boy's butt and he had made sure the Airbender was deep in meditation before he fell into the familiar routine of his morning warm-up, despite it being mid-afternoon.

But Zuko's body was accustomed to a higher level of activity than what he had been able to put it through today and he didn't feel sore at all. He didn't even feel a slight pull on his muscles. He might as well have sat down and done nothing all day. But keeping his forms would pay off in the long run. He wasn't going to spend forever in here if he could help it.

The night was filled with the musical chirping of cricket-hoppers and sharper chirps of the nocturnal shrew-bats hunting for fire beetles. Zuko's breath streamed from his mouth in a light mist. Just because the prison tower was tucked up against a volcano, it didn't mean that any of the heat got transferred. It was like being back in the South Pole again. He was breathing on his hands, trying to chase away the approaching numbness, when he heard a light tapping on the other side of the wall.

"Zuko?" the Avatar's voice whispered through the hole in the wall.

The Firebender debated not responding. He doubted any conversation the Avatar tried to strike up would be successful. Honestly, what had his uncle been thinking; basically telling him to talk to the Avatar?

"Zuko, are you awake?" the Avatar asked, his voice low and-- scared? Zuko sat up, giving up any pretense of sleeping. The fact that the Avatar sounded scared had quickly sparked his curiosity.

"Yeah."

He was supposed to say something else here. He knew he was supposed to.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked after thinking for a couple of seconds.

Silence persisted for long enough that Zuko wasn't sure if he would get a reply.

"I'm scared." the Avatar whispered; the confession surprised Zuko to no end. "It's cold and I'm scared and I miss my friends. I think that they've gotta be alright, but when I saw them last, they were both sick and I keep thinking that something might have happened to them and I wasn't there to protect them."

Zuko leaned his head against the cold bricks. On the other side of the wall, Aang wrapped his arms around his drawn-up legs.

"I've never really been alone before. Even when I wasn't with the other monks, I still had Appa and then I met Katara and Sokka and they're the best friends I've ever had. But I'm here and they're not. I'm alone."

Zuko stared at the floor, not really seeing it. He knew the feeling. For the first ten years of his life, he'd had his mother. After she had disappeared or died or whatever the heck had happened to her, his uncle been right there and he still was even now. There had only been a few fleeting hours where Zuko had felt completely and totally alone. That same feeling of despair and hopelessness was exactly what the Avatar was feeling right now. Zuko hadn't liked that feeling and he didn't wish it on anyone else. So he curled his hand up, pressing his fingers together as much as he could, and fitted it through the gap. He felt the Avatar jump and tense up when he grabbed the boy's shoulder, but he did not move his hand.

"No. You won't be alone if I can help it." he said. "I think that's what my father wants. He wants us to feel isolated and alone. He wants us to give up and beg for death. But I don't want to give him what he wants. And you shouldn't either."

His hand was awkwardly patted and the tension between them started to fade away.

"Thanks Zuko."

* * *

The throne room and the war room were one in the same. The only change to make was bringing in a world map and thick cushions so that all in attendance could sit comfortably, protected from the hard marble floor. All planning sessions were conducted in the presence of the Fire Lord, as per the late Fire Lord Azulon's decree. There was a war meeting in session now with various decorated generals -- some retired, some not -- and other important officers in attendance. The fires burned at a dull roar, still casting plenty of light to see by, but the noise and heat was not overwhelming.

"Our next offensive should be against the Northern Water Tribe." General Jiang was saying, pushing the stone markers with the Fire Nation symbol mounted on them upwards to the North Pole. "They are the last stronghold of Waterbenders. Once we wipe them out, only the Earth Kingdom will remain."

There was a murmuring agreement from each general and officer gathered around the map.

General Jiang thumped his fist into the open palm of his other hand. "I believe if we strike a single decisive blow--"

"It will take more than one blow, General Jiang." Zhao interrupted. "This isn't some little Earth village we can just march into. The Water Tribe is a great nation. There's a reason they've survived a hundred years of war."

"You seem to be very well informed regarding the Northern Water Tribe." General Jiang said, crossing his arms. "What do you recommend, Admiral Zhao?"

Was that a note of contempt Zhao heard there? Contempt for the man who had brought great glory to the Fire Nation? That would not stand. He would have to teach this impudent man a lesson later. A lesson he would not soon forget.

"Their Waterbenders are a formidable force. The frozen tundra is treacherous. The landscape itself is an icy fortress. That is their territory and they know it well. The Water Tribe is entirely capable of burrowing themselves into their glacier and sitting out any siege we lay upon them." Zhao jabbed a finger in a vague northerly direction. "We would need a massive invasion force to dig them out."

There was a great deal of muttering from all over the war room. On his throne, Ozai stroked his beard thoughtfully. Only two great nations now stood in the way of conquest, but Zhao was right. The Northern Water Tribe was indeed a formidable force. It was going to take a great deal of power to uproot them.

"Admiral Zhao." the Fire Lord spoke up for the first time since the proceedings had begun. "What do you have in mind for dealing with the Water Tribe?"

"Fire Lord Ozai, with your permission, I would like to take an expedition up to the North Pole; as many battleships that can be spared." Zhao replied, standing respectfully before the Fire Lord. "I would also like permission to recruit General Iroh as my military consultant. His tactical knowledge will be invaluable in the coming weeks and months."

"Permission granted, though you will have to take the offer to him directly." Ozai nodded. "And your plan?"

Zhao smiled, a mirthless one. "I believe I have found a way to destroy the Waterbenders once and for all."

* * *

Iroh was staring down the path to the prison tower. He hadn't dared set one foot on it since his visit almost a week ago. He didn't want Ozai catching wind of the second thoughts that had been churning through his head. He did not like the direction this war was taking. Granted, he hadn't liked the war since his son's death, but its current direction made him hate it even more. The entire Fire Nation was looking forward to a shining future, but Iroh could only see something bleak and colorless. The world was not supposed to take this path, was his feeling.

He prayed that Zuko had taken his advice -- or had at least understood it. Maybe between his nephew and the Avatar, they would find a way of escaping and putting the world to rights again.

"General Iroh!" The familiar voice of Admiral Zhao hailed him and the crunch of footsteps was heard. "I thought I would find you up here."

"May I help you, Admiral Zhao?" Iroh inquired politely as his teeth began to grind. That was man was the reason Zuko was currently locked up; the reason the world felt like it was swaying off balance.

"The fleet will be traveling northwards in a few days' time and I will be leading it." Zhao informed him. "I've been promoted to Fleet Admiral."

"Congratulations." Iroh grunted.

"I would like you to join me as my military consultant." Zhao offered. "Fire Lord Ozai has already approved of the appointment. All I need is your acceptance."

Iroh stared at the path ahead without actually seeing it. In the last week, he had not found any excuse to leave the Fire Nation. This could very well be the opportunity he had been looking for. Maybe he could accidentally become "lost" during the battle at the North Pole. And then maybe he could be "forced" to borrow a Water Tribe ship in order to make his way south again. And then maybe he could get "lost" again once in the Earth Kingdom and end up in Ba Sing Se. Maybe he could open a tea shop. He had always wanted to open a tea shop.

He didn't want to fight anymore.

"I accept your offer, Admiral Zhao." Iroh said at last, turning around with a pleasant smile. "I would be honored to join you."

There was a bitter tang to those words that made his tongue curl.

"The honor is all mine, General Iroh." Zhao said. "I look forward to working alongside you."

He bowed and then turned and walked away. Iroh waited until he was out of sight before turning back to stare down the path to the prison tower. He couldn't help but worry about his nephew. Ever since his own son had died, he had taken it upon himself to teach Zuko what he needed to learn to survive in the world. A world that may or may not have been controlled by Ozai. But he needed to know how to survive nonetheless.

It must have begun a month -- perhaps more than that -- after Azulon's funeral, Ozai's coronation and Ursa's disappearance. Long enough for the gravity of the new circumstances to sink in. With the mitigating influence of his mother gone, Zuko had been caught between a father who would not have him and a sister who wanted nothing more than to watch him suffer and fail in every possible aspect. Lost, grieving for his mother and whole-heartedly confused about the twist his world had taken, the then-ten-year old prince had sought out the only other person who had always treated him kindly. Uncle Iroh.

So Iroh had stepped in to fill a role that Ozai had abandoned long ago and had taken Zuko under his wing; teaching him and training him. If Ozai had cared about this at all, then he had kept his thoughts to himself. The Fire Lord had been much more interested in Azula anyways. Azula was the strong one, the prodigy. She wasn't weak like her brother. She didn't struggle with every kata nor spend spare time between lessons making sure that her footwork was correct. She didn't spend an extra half-hour on breathing exercises to be sure that she was doing them properly. Ozai favored her above his first-born; finding the time to spend with her while barely sparing a disdainful glance for Zuko.

Iroh had been the father Zuko hadn't had, while Zuko had unconsciously helped to heal the wound that the death of Lu Ten had left on Iroh's heart. He had done everything a father was supposed to do; guiding the boy to the right path, giving him the support where he needed it...

It was what he was supposed to do.

* * *

-


End file.
